


Kitten

by nonky



Category: Being Human (US/Canada)
Genre: F/M, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-16 01:09:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18510844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonky/pseuds/nonky
Summary: Aidan was used to being utterly consumed by his nature, and giving in half-way for Rebecca's sake was confusing.Bloodplay warning: This is heavy on emphasis of the vampire blood sex, so if that's a squick for you perhaps this is a story you'd be better off skipping.





	Kitten

Aidan had read the literature – just substituting blood for alcohol or drugs worked most of the time. For a few particular acts, the urges moved more toward sexual addiction, which was trickier. In a human, sex did not equal death, and in a vampire it absolutely did.

Conquering an addiction required knowing one's own helplessness in the face of that need. Rebecca had admitted it to him, and she was trying to change. Aidan had to trust her in order to help her. He had to believe her sincerity.

He had no trouble believing she wanted to be out from Bishop's cabal; the strange, strained fatherly seduction conducted in every word, and the knowledge that all Bishop's children were posed in opposition to each other for mere survival. It was hard to excuse his maker, but vampires were not meant to exist in groups or individually. Their cooperation was conditional on being afraid to go against the leader, so anyone who took over would just become another Bishop.

Down on the floor she lapped like a little kitten at his palm, laving gently at the skin. It was far enough from his wrist to be safe, not far enough to avoid suggesting things they could do to each other – things that he should never do again. Rebecca held his hand with both of hers, but sweetly. Her pleading gaze was hidden as she pushed his sleeve up with her nose. Just like a little kitten, tiny touches hiding claws and fangs, hungry and searching. She was days starved; probably too far gone to scheme. Bishop hadn't had her that long. Rebecca wasn't like that – her face gave away everything she was thinking.

He would be careful of her, but she was genuinely in need. If this wasn't a debt he could repay, it was likely there was nothing to do to redeem himself. Aidan nodded, and her mouth sprang open against his wrist as if on springs. She twisted a little down, rotated her back and ass pleasantly as her teeth dug in. She hummed in delight as his blood slaked her as much as it would.

Aidan was a little dizzy from the feeding when she rose with a wet, red chin, grinning over cannibalizing him. She kissed the blood into him, he gave in, and he barely had time to suggest moving to the bathroom before the carpet was ruined.

Rebecca had none of his qualms. She enjoyed it with the kind of open pleasure Bishop's control had taught him not to show. They wrestled between the three walls of the shower, smearing glorious streaks of blood in the shapes of bodies and hands. Only another vampire could understand the beauty and the luxury of walls blood red; anyone else would be horrified by their jealousy that humans were pumping full of it.

He didn't feel himself slip, but later he could look far up at that decision and wonder how he'd ever climb out of his error. Rebecca's hopelessness made him try for a middle ground – some way to have her like this but civilize it enough to make it less his nature than the act of being a man.

They took walks, because he insisted. They people-watched, but that generally led to neck-watching and impermissible feelings. They watched old movies because they were Aidan's preference, and avoided anything based in reality. Inside the room was easier, allowed anonymity and denial to smooth over the guilty pangs. As a twelve step program, hiding was failure, but at least it wasn't prowling the street for helpless prey.

They fucked, hard and brutal. Rebecca climbed him and gnawed his mouth open on hers. She hauled at his hips and groped him. His existence narrowed to pumping into her and the instinct to suck. She clawed him nearer, screaming like she hadn't when she was human and he'd killed her. It felt good to drive into her with his whole body, but Aidan was always going to be more concerned with getting his teeth into her than his cock.

He could call her sweetheart, and there were kisses before the bites, but sometimes he was too far gone to know his own name, let alone hold any sanctity of feeling for her. Rebecca's satisfaction was more snide than relieved. She looked pleased to watch him lose control of himself. This wasn't healing, closure or forgiveness. He had seduced her when she was human, making her overlook when he was unrevealing and creepy. Aidan had used all the little friendly postures and helpless charm of a seasoned predator. He had played dumb, horny and mysterious.

So maybe he owed this to Rebecca, letting her use and abuse him. Maybe this was justice of a sort. He didn't know if he was doing the right thing, but every night in the hotel room was another night she didn't kill. Josh was asking questions Aidan didn't know how to answer, and he tried to avoid his friend. He told himself the sneaking around was temporary, and once he had a way to make Josh get it he'd explain himself. It was hard to make Josh see the twisted logic of vampire instincts.

He wanted to call it passion, because he couldn't think of another way he would want to spend his nights. He wanted to call it love, because that sounded a lot nicer than dysfunctional murder-suicide. He wanted to make it better than it was, but he couldn't love her any more than he'd be able to bond with a blow up doll. She wasn't real with him, he wasn't real with her, and neither of them was too fucked up to think they could love something that didn't even exist.

So he came in her, and she screamed and moaned like it meant they were having fun. Aidan wasn't sure if the hostages were all the humans out in the world beyond their hotel, or he and Rebecca inside it. Sometimes he even felt like it was everybody else's fault for tempting them. Nature hadn't made them, so everything of the world tantalized without sating their wants. It was classic addict talk – blaming anyone else, but he knew there was enough blame to share.

Her pain hurt him, deep inside his chest in a visceral way that made his sluggish heart quake. The good moments were peaceful and lovely, Rebecca pressed languid and warm on his chest. But they never made any vows, and he couldn't be certain she would meet him the next time. They could re-enact that first night together, but nothing would bring back the trusting innocence of her limbs curling around him tenderly.

Aidan was stuck, and he knew it. He wanted a version of Rebecca he'd killed months ago, and he was a bastard for complaining about the loss.


End file.
